Earlier this year, as part of our iTime programme in Year 9 were lucky to have Mrs Jane Smallfied (OGHS ex-student, archivist, and retired librarian) come and talk to them about the history of Otago Girls’ High School.

Please enjoy a selection of Year 9 writing as they imagine what Otago Girls’ High School would be like when it first opened on the 6th of February, 1871.

Dear Diary, 1 March 1871

I am currently seated in the back of the coach my mother forced me to take instead of slogging through the farm land for my first day of high school. My hand is trembling with excitement and the horse pulling the cart has a very uneven gait. He swishes his tail and tosses his head defiantly as we trot briskly through the town. I feel a pang of guilt at sitting here like a duchess well he frets and tugs to move. The school is in view now; it just started in February this year. A coil of anticipation unfurls girls who could finally go to school after being downtrodden and rejected by men they finally allowed us to attend. Of course, a proper school hadn’t been built for us not yet. We got half of the boys building and a large imposing fence blocked us from seeing each other. Wish me luck.

By Arabella Ellis

Dear Diary, 4 March 1871

School is not what it cracked up to be the walls are laden with mold and grim ivy caresses the hallway and the teachers are unnecessarily crueller to the girls and will give you a swift whack on the hands and the sewing and embroidery is excruciatingly long and hard. I hope one day things will improve and maybe just maybe we will get our very own school?

By Arabella Ellis

1871, February 6th - First day at Otago Girls' School

Standing outside in front of the long fence, possibly around 5ft high I look around at the other girls. Judging on their appearance to figure out their personality. A girl around possibly 12 or 13 had her hair tied back tightly. Her facial expression said posh, stay away from her. A mid-aged lady came and stood out in front of the gate.

“Welcome girls to Otago Girls’, a few rules…” she said some simple things like, don't look over the fence, don't talk to the boys, don't do this or that. She opened the gate and everyone swarmed to the gate, standing back. I waited until most people had gone through and slowly walked through taking in my surroundings as I went. Overgrown vines and bush cover half of the building, the dusty white building looked like it was quite old. A path leads directly to the stairway up to the front door. Stepping through the front door a disgusting smell wafted around the room. Inch thick mold was all over the lower walls. This day would be interesting.

Elizabeth Williams.

By Lexie Adam

1871, February 12th - Day 6 of Otago Girls' School being open

My rather big shoes sounded like a trotting horse's hooves each time they hit the ground, I stared down at the ground as the big white building slowly came closer and more visible. When I looked up the tall fences looked down on me like I was a peasant. I open the gate and hundreds of eyes look me up and down, a shiver went down my spine as I slowly and quietly closed the gate and walked up to the stairs. A small boy peeked over the fence talking to one of the young girls, he seemed delighted to see her. Sitting down on the steps I look at the big white building, crumbling slowly, bush covering most of the right side wall. Standing up I reach for the door handle, The metal ball like ice, turning it efficiently I open the door. The smell of mold wafts around the room, the lower walls covered in it, maybe an inch thick? Dreading what the day has to offer, I walk through to the next room to start my singing lessons. I sit down and wait, wait for the teacher, wait for the other girls, wait for the day to come to an end.

Elizabeth Williams

By Lexie Adam

Panting as I walked the final few steps up the hill, I mentally checked myself. I had an apple and a piece of bread. My canteen was full with fresh water. My satchel was clean, the small badges I had embroidered on it only the day before bright against the ugly grey-brown of the thick fabric. I was wearing my best outfit; my blouse and skirt, which I had washed the night before, and my flat shoes. They were too tight and rubbed against my feet, but they were the best shoes I owned. They were the only shoes I owned. I wasn’t about to trouble my siblings by asking for more when my own were perfectly fine for the meantime.

It had taken a long time, to convince them to let me go to this school. Mother found the idea of a girl’s school primitive, not that her opinion mattered. This was the first school that girls could attend in the country. Despite being only nine years old, I had taught myself basic characters and numbers. I could talk properly, I knew how to take care of our family. Mother fell deep into a bottle after Father left for military training. News had come only weeks ago that a stray missile during a training course had fired, catching him in it.

I admit, I was a little hesitant about attending. It’s all I’ve wanted to do ever since I was young, go to a school, but there was no school for girls in the country. This was the first, and I was privileged enough to be living right in the small town where it had opened. My brother had attended a school for a few years when I was young, but ever since Father left only three years ago, there hasn’t been enough money nor work to go around.

But there were my younger siblings to consider. My elder brother and sister worked day and night just to get an extra penny, which was a rarity. We barely had enough as it was. But they worked so hard, and I felt guilty about leaving my younger siblings to fend for themselves. Even if it was only for a few days a week.

We came to an agreement; I would attend school three times a week and teach my younger siblings what I had learnt when I got home. I would then start dinner like usual, get the younger children ready for bed, and wait for my older siblings to return home.

By Ava Booth